Dinner was fantastic
by ghost I-I'm not a-a-afraid
Summary: John and Sherlock are simply going out for dinner, and having a conversation. (Warning: The Johnlock is strong in this one)


I've never written any Sherlock fanfic ever, so I apologize. Not really. Tell me if you see some grammar mistakes, I never usually see them. Review and tell me if you liked it and maybe wants some other Sherlock fanfiction, I guess…

Dinner was fantastic

"Can you stop analyzing people?" John tried to whisper as he looked over the menu once more. For once, they were not on a case. They were simply going out as friends, a normal thing to do for two friends, best friends to be precise.

It would have been more enjoyable if his friend would stop staring at every person and discovering small details which obviously changed their character from innocent to coldblooded murders.

"I'm not analyzing people, John." Sherlock said and took a sip from his glass filled with wine. "I'm studying human nature."

John sighed in annoyance. "It's the same thing."

"You are referring to analyzing, which means to examine methodically by separating into parts and studying their interrelations. In some way you are right, Watson, but studying and analyzing is two different things. For example, let's say that Anderson gets strangled, thrown into the ocean and doesn't get found until a simple fisherman with two kids and a wife fishes him up a-."

"Just find what you want to order."

"I didn't think you were the bossy type when it came to dates." Sherlock said mildly surprise and looked for the waiter who was running from one table to another. The restaurant Mrs. Hudson had recommended wasn't one of the most expensive places in London, but it was nice enough. Considering from the decoration, the owner wasn't rich. From the old pictures, he could tell that they were bought at a garage sale. At least the tables and chairs had been bought from a real store.

"It's not a date." John replied at once and huffed in annoyance for the second time that evening.

"Then I'm not analyzing people."

"Sherlock!"

"Would you like to order now, sirs?" The waiter who came up to them asked, smiling fake, Sherlock noted. He also noted that the man had spilled sauce at his shirt, and had a tiny piece of bread sticking to his cheek.

"What would you recommend?" The well-known detective asked politely. Which made his companion smile, hopefully his friend would act nice for the rest of the evening.

A nervous smile formed the waiter's lips as he scratched his chin. This guy hadn't worked there for long. "Well, our chef is an expert with the grill. So I would recommend you number seven."

"I clearly hear what you are saying, but don't you think number eleven would sound better? Judging from the piece of bread on your cheek and the sauce on your shirt, I would say that you take and steal small pieces of the food you are serving in between your lunch breaks and when you leave for the night. You are not very rich, you got thrown out of your parents home at eighteen and-."

"Sherlock."

"Your girlfriend left you a couple of weeks later. You just found an apartment a few days ago, but you lack money-."

"Sherlock!" John said a little louder and ignored the stares they got from the other guests.

"Was there something you wanted John?" Sherlock asked as he turned from the now quite pale waiter to his friend.

John Watson held back a smile which meant that he wanted to punch Sherlock or scream out for god.

"Number eleven, sir?" The waiter asked weakly and took back Sherlock's attention.

"And number seven for my date."

"I'm not your date." John looked to the waiter who scribbled down their orders. "I'm not his date."

The waiter took their menus and left, quite fast.

"I don't get you John." Sherlock said as he for once looked at John who took a huge sip from his wine glass. He seemed sweaty, irritated and a spoon full of embarrassed. It was quite nice. His companion looked up from his glass in confusion as in asking what he didn't get. Because, not that he would describe himself as smarter than most people, Sherlock understood a lot of things, but John was strange.

"Date is people going out and having fun, so I don't get why you won't let me call you my date."

"The term 'date' is a little different-."

"So you are not having fun?"

The doctor let out a breath. "I'm not saying that I am not having fun, I'm say-."

"Don't you find me attractive?"

"What kind of question is that?" John exclaimed. Sherlock seemed serious as he clapped his hands together and let his nose rest on his fingertips.

"Date can also been said in romantic terms. As in going on dates with people you are feeling attracted to. So, in what I have gathered so far, I have made some possibilities that I find realistic. A, you are just embarrassed a-."

"Just stop it Sherlock." Watson said, he wanted to leave, never again would he let Mrs. Hudson to persuade him to go out with Sherlock this way again.

"So you find me attractive?" There it was the knowing smile on Sherlock's face. John just stared at him.

"Here are your orders sirs." The waiter from earlier said and placed their orders in front of them as the bell from the exit rung and signaled that a guest was leaving. Sherlock took a grab for his coat and put it on.

"What are you doing, Sherlock?"

"A case my dear Watson, why else do you think we were here in this poor excuse of a restaurant?" He went to the exit and held the door open, waiting.

The waiter was really confused as the other man, John, picked up his jacket and put some money on the table and left with the strange man, Sherlock Holmes.


End file.
